


Bring Me Higher

by lightsandsparks



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and a tiny bit of angst but way less than you'd expect from a treebros fic probs, M/M, Mental Illness, Sickfic, Soft boys falling in love, Treebros, drug mention, soft connor, this is real fuckin sappy guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:03:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13860222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsandsparks/pseuds/lightsandsparks
Summary: Five snapshots of the boys navigating their relationship after having just gotten together.





	Bring Me Higher

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to Tayler for the beta!!

Connor doesn't know what the fuck he's supposed to be doing, he just knows that it's supposed to be _something_.

Anything other than this. Anything other than sitting on the opposite end of a couch, directly across from his boyfriend as they watch a movie in a blessedly empty house. 

They're dating now, so that means Connor can finally do stuff like hold Evan's hand or curl his arms around him whenever he wants to. He doesn't have to hide his feelings anymore, doesn't have to squash them down and berate himself because somehow, through some turn of magic or random twist of fate, Evan happens to feel the same way about him. 

So they're together. They're a thing. Connor's never dated anyone before, but he thinks he has a decent sense of how it's supposed to work. It's definitely not supposed to work like this. 

He wants to scoot closer, wants to wrap himself up in Evan and be wrapped up by him in return. Connor doesn't know what's stopping him. 

The only conclusion he can come to is that he's afraid. It's a common mantra that his brain likes to repeat back to him, so the theory makes sense. _Don't do that, you'll fuck it up. Don't say that, they're going to take it the wrong way. Keep your distance. Push it down. Leave them alone._ Connor's brain can tell him these things over and over, but he's usually pretty good at doing the exact opposite. 

This is different. 

It's different because it's Evan and according to him, living inside of _his_ head is also it's own personal brand of hell. So doesn't that mean that Connor should grow some balls and be the one to make the first move? 

From the corner of his eye, he can tell that Evan looks uncomfortable. He's never exactly been subtle about that sort of thing, but Connor knows him well enough by now to recognize his ticks. Evan doesn't bite his nails unless he's thinking really hard about something, and although the lights are off Connor can see the light sheen of sweat on his forehead thanks to the glow coming off the TV. 

Shit, Evan is _really_ nervous. 

They've only been official for a week now and Evan is already thinking about breaking up with him. Great. 

Because what kind of boyfriend is Connor, anyway? Evan has regaled Connor with the details of his social anxiety on multiple occasions, how it literally stops him from functioning around other people. 

Connor should be the one to ease that pain, to help him through it. But here he is squished just about as far away as he can get from Evan on a couch in an empty house and not doing anything to make him feel better. 

Wow, Connor is an actual piece of unmitigated shit. 

He's about to get up, to make an excuse that he's going to use the bathroom so he can go hate himself properly in solitude. But then Connor looks over to speak, and he sees Evan looking back at him. 

The words die on his lips. 

There's a weird, awkward moment of silence where Evan flicks his head away from Connor to look back at the TV. Connor looks at it too, but it's just a scene change and nothing exciting is really happening. 

Then the couch is dipping and when Connor looks down, he sees Evan crawling towards him. Before he knows it, there's a warm body pressed against his side and an arm being looped around his stomach. 

"I hope this is- is this okay? I just thought it would be a good idea because this is what boyfriends are supposed to do and it's kinda nice, right? I can move if you're uncomfortable." The arm around him stiffens, and Connor can feel Evan ball up the fabric of his hoodie in a vice grip. "Sorry, maybe this is too much, it's probably too early for this-" He keeps rambling and Connor lets him, especially since Evan hasn't made any attempts at moving away yet. 

When it's silent again, Connor feels an automatic smile creep it's way onto his face. 

He doesn't think he'll ever be able to properly articulate what it's like to feel Evan's body against his. The euphoria that blooms in his stomach as a result is unparalleled to anything he's ever experienced, drug-induced or otherwise. 

"It's fine," Connor says after a quiet moment. "I like this." The words sound silly as they hang in the air that way, but he doesn't know how else to explain what he's feeling. 

"Oh, okay. Good." 

Connor snakes a tentative arm around Evan's shoulders, hugging him closer. 

So they're cuddling now. It's a thing. 

Connor feels Evan's body start to relax, going limp as they get comfortable. He begins rubbing slow circles onto Evan's back, knowing from experience that this usually helps to keep him calm. 

He thinks it works because soon Evan is curling up even closer in Connor's side, snuffling as his nose burrows into Connor's hoodie. 

A warm rush of rush of affection and _something else_ hits, and Connor closes his eyes, reveling in it. 

He could get used to this. 

\-- 

Evan can tell when Connor's had a bad day, and today has definitely been one of the bad days. 

They didn't talk the whole drive home from school. Evan is currently doing homework at his desk while Connor lies on the floor with his headphones in, music blaring. 

Evan doesn't know what he did wrong. 

There's a knot of anxiety and dread in his stomach that's threatening to eat him alive. He can't concentrate on the vocab words he's supposed to be memorizing because he's too busy replaying the entire day in his head, dissecting every interaction he and Connor had. When he comes up short, he starts swiping through their texts, wondering if a message he sent autocorrected to something he didn't mean to say. Or maybe something else he typed was too vague and it inadvertently made Connor mad? 

Now, someone with a brain that functions normally would probably get their boyfriend's attention, make them take their headphones out, and ask them right upfront what's going on. Unfortunately though, Evan wasn't exactly blessed at birth with the ability to just do things like that. 

So instead, he works himself into a near panic until Connor finally breaks the silence. 

"Come on Evan, quit it." 

Evan freezes. "What?" 

"You're doing that leg bounce-y thing again. So either talk to me about what's bothering you or move somewhere else. You're messing up my concentration." 

Evan flushes. Instead of pointing out that Connor isn't really doing anything that requires much concentration, he focuses on the fact that he now has definitive confirmation that his boyfriend is mad at him. "Sorry," he apologizes as his stomach sinks. 

"Don't be," Connor answers tightly. "I'm being an asshole. Do whatever you want." 

Evan figures this might be his only chance, so he takes it. "I actually- I did want to talk to you, about um. Something, if that's okay?" 

"I just said it was okay." 

"Right." Evan twists in his chair to face Connor fully, legs folding up beneath him. "Are you mad at me?" he blurts out, hoping his decision to rip off the metaphorical band-aid was the right one. 

"What?" Connor sounds genuinely confused. "Why would I be mad at you?" 

"I don't know, I guess that's what I'm asking? It's just that, well, all day you've seemed off and we barely talked at school and I figured you were just having a bad day, but you also didn't talk to me in the car or even here and usually that's your time to rant?" Evan takes a breath and when Connor doesn't respond immediately he rushes to add, "So basically. I just figured that you're mad at me and we should probably talk about it if that's the case." 

When he finally looks up at Connor's face, he sees him blinking slowly with a neutral expression. Evan has to bite his lip to keep himself from saying more. 

"Not everything is about _you_ , you know." 

Evan tries really hard not to let that comment hurt him, but it does anyway. 

This must show on his face somehow because now Connor is sitting up and saying, "Shit, I didn't mean it like that." He looks down and starts fiddling with his ring. "I'm not mad at you," he sighs after a pause. 

Relief floods Evan before it melts into concern. "What's going on, then?" 

Connor is quiet, still playing with his ring and not looking at him. "Stuff," he says after a protracted beat. 

Evan's heart aches. He gets out of his chair and goes to sit in front of Connor on the floor. "What kind of stuff?" 

Connor shrugs. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

Connor just shrugs again. 

"Um..." Evan racks his brain, sorting through about ten different phrases before writing them all off as not being good enough. As usual, he just can't figure out the right thing to say. 

Luckily, he's spared by Connor speaking again. "I do. I just… I don't know." 

Well. That's more sufficient than anything Evan had to offer, at least. 

"Is it your family?" 

"It's everything." 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. I…" Connor trails off then finally looks up at Evan. His eyes seem tired and maybe just a little bit glassy, unless Evan is imagining things. "I didn't really sleep much last night and my dad made a stupid comment this morning before I left for school, and classes were long and people are assholes and. Yeah. I just can't with today." 

Evan knows Connor isn't very well-versed in talking about his feelings. He thinks he probably used to be the same way, but years of therapy and being forced to come up with ways to articulate his emotions has helped him grow a little bit better at that. 

Unfortunately, Connor's never really been given the opportunity to reap that benefit. 

"So you're... frustrated, it sounds like?" 

"Frustrated. Tired... pissed off." 

"Sad?" 

Connor gives him a strange look, eyebrows knotting for a split second before his expression returns back to one of neutrality. Evan's gut twists, fearing he's finally gone and said the wrong thing. He's about to attempt a backtrack until Connor's tiny affirmative nod stops him. 

"Well, that's okay," Evan assures him. "You're allowed to be sad." 

Connor doesn't respond. 

Evan feels his hand dart up to scratch a non-existent itch on his nose. His mind races ahead of him, listing off all of the possible comforting words or actions he could offer right now. He could hold Connor's hand, but that would be gross after he just scratched his nose, right? Well, it was just the bridge of his nose, but still. He could hug Connor, but he doesn't really look like he wants to be touched right now. Or what if he does, and he's just not showing it? 

Finally, Evan settles on something tangible. Youtube videos always help cheer him up when he's in a bad mood, so he figures it's worth a shot to try with Connor. 

Evan's laptop is where he left it this morning, sitting on the edge of his bed. When he stands to retrieve it, Connor's head snaps up instantly, reaching out and grabbing Evan's hand before tugging it downward. "No, stay." 

Connor looks genuinely distressed and Evan gets warm, fuzzy chills at the realization that Connor just wants _him._ He doesn't need any pretty words or grand gestures. Evan's mere presence seems to be enough. 

It's a concept that Evan still struggles to wrap his head around. 

"I'll be right back. I'm just getting my laptop so we can watch this new conspiracy video I found last night." 

"Oh?" Connor sounds interested as he tentatively lets go of Evan's hand. 

"Yeah, it's another one about the Mandela Effect." Evan grabs his laptop then plops on the floor next to Connor, laying on his stomach as he pulls up the website. Connor lays down as well, their shoulders bumping. "It talks about like, five new ones and they all freaked me out big time. I hate you for getting me into this stuff." 

For the first time all day, Evan sees Connor smile. 

"The truth is out there, Ev. You'll thank me someday." 

"Sure." 

\-- 

They've been together for exactly three months today, and Connor is trying his hardest not to admit he's lame enough to remember that. 

Three months shouldn't be anything to want to celebrate. It's not really an important milestone, and Connor has always been one to roll his eyes at the couples who make those stupid mini-anniversary posts on Facebook or Instagram. 

That was before Connor was actually in a relationship of his own, though. 

He's known Evan a lot longer than three months; the two of them did go to school together most of their lives after all, but they've been been actual friends for about seven. Connor still remembers the exact day he approached Evan in the computer lab and he's been counting the time ever since. 

He's just really good at remembering dates, okay? 

Instead of bringing it up to Evan, he keeps his mouth shut. Connor doesn't want to come off as one of those creepy, overly-invested boyfriends that's already started planning their proposal, because he definitely hasn't. He just thinks about it hypothetically sometimes. That's _completely_ different. 

Evan texts him after the last bell, saying he doesn't need a ride home today but that Connor can come over after school. This isn't completely out of the ordinary, so he doesn't think much of it. 

That is until he sees Evan outside waiting for him on his doorstep when he pulls into the driveway. 

Connor makes quick work of getting out of the car, his mind already having jumped to the worst case scenario. "What's wrong? Is someone dead?" He rushes up to Evan, eyeing him up and down. "Are you alright?" 

"I'm fine." Evan, possibly the most obvious person Connor knows, is clearly trying to hide a smile. 

"What's going on?" Connor asks, growing even more suspicious when he realizes Evan hasn't made any moves to greet him with a hug or kiss, and that he's pointedly keeping his arms behind his back. "How'd you get here before me?" 

"I left school a little early." 

Before Connor can ask any more questions, Evan smiles brightly and pulls out a huge bouquet of flowers from behind his back. "Happy ninety-versary!" 

Connor gapes, torn between being enamoured with the colorful variety of flowers in Evan's arms, and being shocked at the fact that _he actually remembered too_. 

"Get it? Because there's ninety days in three months? That's how long we've been together. I know you probably didn't realize it and I know this is cheesy and kind of a dumb thing to celebrate. But even if it wasn't sort-of a special day, you still deserve flowers." 

Connor mutely takes the bouquet as Evan hands it to him. His throat feels tight and his affection for Evan is bubbling over, leaving him speechless. 

"Thanks, Ev," he manages. 

Evan starts to rock back and forth on his heels a bit. "Um, so yeah! These are yellow tulips," he says, pointing enthusiastically. "They represent friendship because that's how we started out but they can also mean love, so it's kinda like a middle ground sorta thing? Oh, these are blue hydrangeas, they mean trust and um, intimacy. Here we have pink ranunculus which symbolize appreciation, and of course red roses which I think are pretty self-explanatory." 

There are words and emotions all tangled up in Connor's throat, in his chest, and he can't speak past them. He nods along to Evan's speech, and when his eyes start to burn he holds the flowers closer and sniffs them, just so he has something to do. 

He doesn't even realize he's been quiet for so long until Evan starts talking again. "I know this is stupid, I'm sorry Connor. I didn't even think to ask if you _wanted_ flowers. I could just keep them at my house instead." 

Connor shakes his head in rapid succession and practically lunges at Evan, locking an arm tightly around his shoulders. He buries his face into Evan's neck and doesn't even think to care if Evan can feel the tears on his skin as they leak out. 

Connor's content to stay like this forever, and he would have, but soon Evan starts to squirm. "So, you do like them? Or?" 

"Of course I fucking like them," Connor mumbles, pressing a hard kiss to the corner of Evan's mouth as he pulls away. "I love them." 

"Connor," Evan whispers as he stares up at his face. Connor's first instinct is to wipe away his tears and try to hide the fact that he was crying, but it's just Evan. He doesn't need to do that, especially since this isn't the first or last time he's seen Connor cry. 

"Are you… those are good tears, right?" 

He can't help but let out a tiny laugh. "Yeah." Connor looks down at the flowers, they're bright and carefully arranged and Evan obviously put a lot of thought and effort into them. 

He looks up at Evan's face and the view gets even better. "This is… this is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." 

Connor watches Evan's face flush. He can't help but lean down and kiss him deeply, hoping it conveys all the things he can't put into words. 

"So… basically, the flowers are just as good as that shirt you got me for my birthday? Because I wear that thing like, all the time." 

Connor scoffs, remembering the shirt he'd found in a thrift store that said 'Sorry Not Sorry'. He'd couldn't walk past it, especially not when it reminded him so much of Evan. 

"That was a gag gift more than anything. Keep in mind that I also gave it to you before we'd even gotten together. Next year I'm really gonna outdo myself for your birthday. Bet." 

"If you say so," Evan says as he steps forward to give him a little half hug. "I'm glad you like them." 

"I do. Happy ninety-versary, Ev." He hugs back and kisses Evan's hair before they break apart to walk into the house. "And just for the record, I remembered, too." 

\-- 

Evan doesn't feel well. 

And it's not the normal kind of "not feeling well," either. It isn't sleep deprivation or withdraw from a forgotten medication dose. He's eaten two whole meals today and remembered to drink enough water. The physical manifestations of his anxiety have been tolerable. 

He's definitely getting sick. 

It's the worst timing his shitty immune system could have possibly picked. It's Friday night and Connor has managed to convince his family to let him spend the night at Evan's house, pointedly leaving out the part about Heidi's overnight shift. They're lying in bed with a Netflix movie playing, the laptop resting on Connor's stomach. 

He'd been feeling achy and tired all day at school, but wrote it off as a bad night's sleep. The nap he took when he got home didn't help; if anything, it made him feel worse. Evan had been able to hide the fact that he was dealing with a splitting headache when Connor first came over a few hours ago, but now he's getting the chills too and it's physically impossible not to shiver. 

He also knows that it's physically impossible for Connor not to feel him, seeing as how Evan is half lying on his chest and all. 

"You good?" Connor murmurs, squeezing Evan gently with the arm that's looped around his back. 

The automatic affirmative response gets caught in his throat. Lying to Connor would be stupid at this point because whatever's going on with him is clearly not going to improve anytime soon. "I don't know." 

Connor slaps the space bar of Evan's laptop a little harder than strictly necessary, pausing their movie. "What does that mean?" He asks, turning to look at Evan as best he can. 

Evan shakes his head, but responds truthfully nevertheless. "I'm not feeling too great." 

"Mentally, or…?" 

"Physically." Evan shifts off of Connor, leaning up on his arm to face him properly. "I've been feeling crappy all day." 

"I could feel you shivering," Connor informs him. He reaches over to feel Evan's forehead and his eyes widen. "Shit, you're really warm." The back of Connor's hand is suddenly all over, feeling his cheeks and neck and even behind his ear which Evan is almost positive is not a place you can feel someone's temperature. 

"Well, I'm freezing, so I guess that means I have a fever. Great." 

Connor sits up fully, closing the laptop and placing it at their feet. "Why didn't you say something sooner? You know what, that's a dumb question. Just. Do you have a thermometer?" 

"I'm sorry." Evan lays on his back and closes his eyes. His head is throbbing and he wants to cover himself in about nine more layers of blankets because he's just so cold and now Connor is mad at him. 

"Don't be. I'm not mad, it's just- fuck." Evan opens his eyes just enough to watch Connor get out of bed, walking around to stand over him with his arms crossed. "You didn't answer my question." 

"What?" 

"I- God, Evan." Connor runs a hand through his hair, seeming stressed. "Where do you keep your thermometer?" 

"Oh. First aid kit in the bathroom." 

Connor rushes out of the room and returns a lot faster than expected. "Found it," he says. "Put it in your mouth and don't make a dumb sex joke about what I just said." 

"I'm not Jared," Evan reminds him, doing as instructed. 

"Thank god for that." 

Evan studies Connor's face, noticing the way he's biting down on his lip. "You don't have to be so worried about me." 

Connor lets out a soft, breathy laugh. It's a really cute laugh. "Are you gonna tell a fish not to swim next?" 

"Maybe." 

"Shush. Stop talking or the reading won't be right." 

Connor sits down on the edge of the bed and doesn't hide the fact that he's staring at Evan blatantly. When the thermometer beeps he immediately snatches it out of Evan's mouth and holds it up to his face to see the reading. "You have a 100 degree fever, Ev." 

"That's not so bad." 

"Yeah, but it's not so good, either. It's probably gonna go up." 

Evan doesn't have anything to say to that. 

Connor sighs and sets the thermometer down on Evan's nightstand. "I don't know what to do," he admits. "I've never taken care of someone when they're sick before." 

"It's pretty straightforward," Evan tells him, barely above a whisper. He brings the blanket closer to his face and settles into his pillow a bit more. He's getting tired of talking. 

Connor seems to notice. "Do you need to sleep?" 

"I guess." 

"Okay. You should go to sleep, then." 

Evan doesn't have the strength to ask for what he really wants, but it doesn't even matter because before he knows it, Connor is getting back in bed and spooning him from behind. "I'll be here," he promises. 

That's all Evan needs to hear. 

When he wakes up next, the first thing he notices is that he feels like he's in a furnace. He's sweaty and confused and he isn't really even aware of his surroundings until he opens his eyes and sees Connor leaning over him. 

"Hey. You awake?" 

He knows Connor is looking for an answer to that question, but he doesn't really have one at the moment. 

He just knows he feels like absolute _shit_. 

Connor presses something cold to his forehead. "You've been out for a few hours but I don't think you slept very well. You kept tossing and turning and mumbling in your sleep. But don't worry, you didn't say anything embarrassing. I'm worried though, Ev. You look really sick." 

Evan appreciates it when Connor goes out of his way to make sure he doesn't feel embarrassed, but the tail end of that sentence didn't really help much. 

"W-what do you mean?" Talking only makes him realize he now gets to add a sore throat to his list of symptoms. Fantastic. 

"You're really pale and sweaty. I could also probably use your forehead to defrost an entire Thanksgiving turkey." 

"You're hilarious," Evan groans as he rolls aways from Connor. 

"Shit. I fucking suck at this, I told you." 

Evan feels guilty but doesn't even have the energy to placate Connor right now and that's really saying something. All he can manage is a "Nu-uh." 

There's a hand running through Evan's hair. "Yes-huh." A kiss gets pressed to his forehead. "Ouch, you burnt me." 

It hurts to laugh, but he can't help it. 

"Yes, good. Laughing at my jokes. Much better." 

A few hours, more sleep, some medicine, and lots of fluids later, Evan is feeling relatively okay. Despite the fact that it's now 3 am, they're both awake and watching the rest of their movie. 

"How are you feeling?" Connor asks when the credits begin to roll. 

"Not great, but not completely awful like earlier." 

"And we're definitely, one hundred perfect sure this isn't the flu? Because it's really fucking bad this year Ev. I still can't believe you didn't get your shot." 

"You didn't get yours either!" 

"Don't change the subject," Connor says in a failed attempt to sound stern. He rolls towards Evan and gently cups his cheek. "I don't get to scold people very often, so I'm taking full advantage here." 

Evan smiles and looks up into Connor's eyes, reveling in the comfortable contact. "Well, to answer your question, I think it's just a virus or something. This happens a lot. I'll be fine in a few days." 

Connor eyes him skeptically, but nods. "You are _so_ lucky I didn't call Heidi, you know that right? 'Cause I totally thought about it. A lot." 

"Why, so she could rush home to dote on me then kick you out so you don't get sick too? No thanks. Besides, I'd rather have you be the one taking care of me." 

Evan watches Connor's cheeks turn pink and his heart flutters pleasantly. He'll never get used to how cute it is to see Connor blushing. 

"I like getting to be the one to take care of you, too." 

"Glad this is working out for both of us, then." 

Evan gathers what's left of his strength and plants a kiss on Connor's cheek. For the first time in what might be his entire life, he doesn't completely despise being sick. 

\-- 

Connor has no idea how or when he's going to say it. 

He doesn't want to make it a big deal, despite the fact that it's the biggest deal. It's life-changing, in a way. At least for him it is. 

He's not even afraid that Evan isn't going to feel the same way, although logically he probably should be. Connor just wants Evan to _know_. 

He's been waiting for the perfect moment to arrive but he's getting impatient. 

It's always on the tip of his tongue. When Evan laughs a certain way or after they break apart from a kiss. When he reminds Connor to take his medicine, or asks if he's eaten. When they say goodnight. When they say hello after what always feels like way too long. 

It can't be preceded by some kind of speech because Connor would definitely fuck that up big time. He sucks at explaining his emotions and doesn't even really like talking about them in the first place. It's an issue that he and Evan have spent a lot of time trying to figure out ways to navigate. 

It's one of the many reasons Connor is in love with him. 

But he just doesn't know how to _say_ that. 

So he hasn't. 

Maybe Evan already knows and he's been agonizing over this for nothing. A lot of things between them go unspoken. They've known each other for almost a year now and Connor thinks he might know his boyfriend better than anyone else in his life. 

If he had to place a bet on it, he'd say that Evan loves him back. 

"Do you want any of these Pizza Rolls? They've been in our freezer for like a month and they're starting to get freezer burn," Evan tells him one day after school as Connor enters the kitchen. 

"Hey," Connor says, stepping closer to Evan and tapping him on the shoulder to get his undivided attention. 

"What?" 

"I love you." 

Evan's face turns predictably red and he immediately looks down, smiling. "Oh, I- um. That's. That's… good." 

Connor's stomach sinks. He crosses his arms over his chest and his hand grips his left bicep hard enough to hurt. "Yeah." 

"I love you too," Evan tells him quietly, still staring down hard at the floor. 

"You know Ev, I don't know want you to feel obligated to say that just because-" 

"No!" Evan cuts him off, voice suddenly loud. "I'm so glad you said that because I've been trying to figure out for _weeks_ when to tell you that I love you and I was really nervous because I didn't want to freak you out or make you think I was moving too fast. I didn't want to mess things up and I wanted to be absolutely positive you felt the same way before I said anything. Which you do, so that's good!" 

Connor rolls his eyes affectionately. He may know Evan pretty well by now, but somehow he still surprises him every single day. 

"Honestly, I should have known you'd do that. I've been thinking about how to tell you for way longer than I'd like to admit, too." 

"We're so dumb." 

"Yeah," Connor agrees. He wraps his arms around Evan's shoulders and feels arms slide around his waist in return. "But I love being dumb with you. I love _you_." 

"I love you too." They're kissing now, and Connor's heart soars as he's hit with the realization that _Evan loves him back_. Evan loves _him_. This is knowledge that's going to take some getting used to. 

They break apart after what seems like no time at all. "Seriously, do you want those Pizza Rolls or not? Because I already preheated the oven." 

"I want _you._ " 

Evan's eyes widen and he squeezes Connor impossibly closer. 

"That can be arranged. But first, Pizza Rolls." 

"First, Pizza Rolls," Connor agrees. "Sounds like a plan." 


End file.
